The Pedler of Dust Sticks | Page 8

Nothing excited
in him such a deep indignation, nothing awaked such abhorrence in his
heart, as the thought of a man's receiving the services of another
without making adequate compensation; or the idea of any man
exercising tyranny over his brother man.
Henry's workmen were the happiest and best in Hamburg. They loved
their employer with their whole hearts; there was nothing they would
not do for him. When his factory had been established twenty-five
years, the workmen determined to have a jubilee on the occasion, and
to hold it on his birthday. They kept their intention a secret from him
till the day arrived; but they were obliged to tell his children, who, they
knew, would wish to make arrangements for receiving them in such a
way as their father would approve of, if he knew of it.
It was summer time; and on Henry's birthday, at seven o'clock in the
morning, (for they knew their friend was an early riser,) a strain of
grand and beautiful music broke the stillness of the early hour, and a
long procession of five hundred men was seen to wind around the
house.
The musicians, playing upon their fine wind instruments, and dressed
very gayly, came first. Then came those of his workmen who had been
with him twenty-five years; then his clerks and book-keepers; then
followed his other workmen, and then all the boys who were employed
in his factory. All wore black coats, with a green bow pinned on the
breast.
They drew up in a circle on the lawn before his house; and five old men,
who had been with him for twenty-five years, stood in the centre,

holding something which was wrapped up in the Hamburg flag. Now
all the musical instruments played a solemn, religious hymn.
Immediately after, the five hundred voices joined in singing it. Never
did a truer music rise to heaven than this; it was the music of grateful,
happy hearts.
When the hymn was sung, the book-keeper came forward and made an
address to his master, in the name of them all. In this address they told
Henry how happy he had made them; how much good he had done
them; how sensible they were of his kindness to them, and how full of
gratitude their hearts were towards him. They expressed the hope that
they should live with him all their lives.
Now the old men advanced, and uncovered what they bore in their
hands. It was a fine portrait of their benefactor, in a splendid frame.
The picture was surrounded on the margin by fine drawings, arranged
in a tasteful manner, of all the various articles which were made in his
factory, views of his warehouses in Hamburg, of the factory in which
they worked, of his house in town, of the one in the country where they
then were, and of the old exchange, where he used to stand when he
sold canes and dust sticks. Then the old men presented to him the
picture, saying only a few words of respectful affection.
The good man shed tears. He could not speak at first. At last he said,
that this was the first time in his life that he regretted that he could not
speak in public; that if he had ever done any thing for them, that day
more than repaid him for all. They then gave him three cheers. They
now sang a German national tune, to words which had been written for
the occasion.
The children, who, as I told you, knew what was to happen, had
prepared a breakfast for these five hundred of their father's friends. All
the tables were spread in the garden behind the house, and Henry
desired that all the store rooms should be opened, and that nothing
should be spared.
After an excellent breakfast, at which the children of the good man
waited, the procession marched around to the fine music; and the

workmen, having enjoyed themselves all the morning to their hearts'
content, went to partake of a dinner which the family had provided for
them in a large farm house. Here they sang, and laughed, and told
stories till about eight o'clock in the evening, when they returned by
railway to Hamburg, in a special train which the railroad directors
ordered, free of expense, out of respect for Henry. The railroad was
behind Henry's house, and as the workmen passed, they waved their
hats and cheered him and the family till they were out of hearing.
The picture I had so much admired was a copy of this very picture
which the workmen had presented. The original was hung up in Henry's
drawing room, as his most valuable possession. No wonder his
daughter felt proud of that picture, and loved to